


An Origin

by Kristylee



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/F, Tape Recording
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16712497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristylee/pseuds/Kristylee
Summary: Margot speaks to a reporter from TattleCrime.com





	An Origin

People - some people, not all - compare her to a brick house or a rock wall; impenetrable and impossibly tough against the elements. Some people see her and think of crashing waves and the shore line and indestructible fragments of earth. They see her and her black hair and power suits and, sure, she walks like she is constantly thinking of murder, so they think she's untouchable, because she is fierce. Some people see what they want to. You know, people just make knee jerk assumptions and judgements about the other people they see on the subway or sidewalk or deli and don't really think anything of it. They don't stop to think of this woman's life outside of her appearance, her sharp blue eyes. They just see the shell she wears. See, because she's kind of a little snail. A hermit crab. A small species of human that houses under a bunch of baggage and hard expressions and blood red lipstick. I mean, I can tell you. I can tell you because I know her. I really know her.

She’s not impenetrable; she cracks under the weight of vanilla bean ice cream with fresh cut strawberries. She won't tell you that, she has a reputation to uphold. On our first date, she wore a navy blue dress with her hair pinned back and her lipstick was the long lasting, twelve hour nonsense that I couldn't seem to kiss off of her lips. I tried and it tasted sweet like the dessert we had. She smiled and unlike what my brother would tell you, it was warm.

On our second date. . . Well, we didn't wait for the third date rule and we did sleep together. Despite the murder in her eyes, the vengeance she holds there, she was a surprisingly giving and gentle lover. I. . . I wasn't the first woman she had been with. She wasn't my first either. I've only ever slept with other women, but she. . .I never felt so engulfed by another human being before. Her hands, she was firm, but that doesn't mean she wasn’t gentle. I've always been with women who act a lot like how I imagine men perform, but with her, I don't know, it was different. It was good, really good. She kisses like she doesn't need the air, like all her oxygen comes from me and me alone. You know? It makes you feel something, being somebody else's breath.

She is not a brick house. She is butter in my hands. Her skin reflects like a mirror and it shows me everything I need to know about her. When I touch her thigh, she gasps… her wrist, she smiles. She is reactive. She is natural bliss. She is not a rock wall. She is . . . My little snail.

I remember we argued one day. It was raining and I'd come back from a ride and she never looked at me murderously. Her voice never broke. She never yelled. Her voice was soft, venomous. She can be frightening when she wants to be, but [laughs] more than anything it turned me on. We kissed and I. . . I'm just surprised nobody saw us that day in the stables.

After we ran she became, sort of, I don't know, harder. We had done something together that bound us more than any marriage could, you know? And then the baby came. Her voice is never softer than when she is with him, but… with me, things became, sort of, almost hungry. I saw a little bit of what people thought of her. Her armor showed a little bit more, I suppose. 

I like it. I mean, she's still my hermit crab. She’s still mine, but. I think it's different because every now and then she comes home from a long day at the office and she smells like iron. Like...like a slaughterhouse. I grew up around slaughterhouse so I know what they smell like. A smell like that doesn't just go away. She doesn't just go away. She comes back. That's all I care about. 

[Iron? You mean blood?]

Yes? I. . . Can you stop the tape?

[Muffled movement. A glass thuds on the table.]

Okay. You can turn it back on.

[I actually think I got all that I needed.]


End file.
